Nocturne's Proof Of Existance
by atreriaestus
Summary: One's success in life isn't measured by that life's content, but rather the impact on those surrounding them. Too bad Nobodys have nonlives. ::ABANDONED-Please Do Not Review.::
1. Chapter I Ruling Aqua

A/N: Okay, first I shall explain the title. Yes, "Proof of Existance" IS a spin on the graveyard like area you go to in the game while fighting Luxord and Saix right before Xem. I got the idea ... one's success in life isn't measured by that life's content, but, instead, the people in that person's life they impacted ... Make sense? Good.

Disclaiminess: I don't own any of the characters, alas, and I think Nomura-Sama's already married. XD

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_Far too musically inclined. _

That was really the only way he could even begin to describe the boy standing before him. He was fidgety and nervous with maybe a tinge of pinkish anxiety on his cheeks, nothing at all the picturesque formality that should be presented when speaking to a superior.

But damn of the boy didn't look graceful all the same.

The report in his grasp was … horrid … but the nervous little smile he gave was almost enough for Xemnas's mind to raise the words off the paper and rearrange the letters into … a more professional layout.

That smile would've been heartwarming…

If he'd actually had a heart, of course.

"IX, you realize, of course … this report is worthless to me, yes?"

He nodded with a panicky tenacity, though it was quite clear this was news to the Sitar-Wielder. His grating blatancy at lacking more refined qualities--or even, for that matter, decent posture--had been growing on The Superior's nerves and he was making it well known with tense dark skin, furrowed silver brows, and a strange little glow in his orange eyes that … well, sort of made Demyx feel apprehensively squeamish.

"No. I thought not…" Xemnas gave a insipid little sigh and waved an elegant gloved hand, dismissing The Melodious Nocturne from his intricate marble office. He heard the clicks of boots fade away but didn't see their owner disappear with his face leaned into his hands and digits rubbing his eyes.

"You savin' him for a rainy day 'er somethin', Mansex?"

"Address me formally or not at all," He chided with a growl in his tone to the voice that had been pinpointed above his head.

"Superior." The corrective vote had moved. The usual occurrence of bouncing all over the room without momentum, well … it was nothing new, and he tire of trying to remedy something that would never be cured.

"No, II. His failure to bring back the Olympus Stone has signed his death warrant. He is of no further use."

"Is that the only reason you're sendin' the kid to the slaughter though?" The look risen out of onyx confines told him to pursue. "I mean, he is the only one of us that swears we still have hearts an' all ." The next look informed him he was being too bold and with a large grin he disappeared, not sparing his leader a colorful farewell.

He leaned back slightly more comfortably in his chair. Although Xigbar had an unyielding knack for appearing the lesser informed, nothing could be further from the truth. He had a vexing ability isolate meaning beyond reason and expediency beyond tact.

He was right. Demyx was … too real. He swore Nobodies had hearts and, to anyone who disagreed, he'd swear they had souls that simply longed for hearts. 'A soul can create a new heart,' He would defend.

And Xemnas, even in all his glorious supremacy with brambles of nothingness that spanned into both the Realms of Light and Dark, would dare to say that was 'Playing God', a term to which the musician was obviously alien. The silverhaired swordsman may have desired to purloin his effects from The Heart Of All Worlds, but even he was not wool-eyed enough to see the blatant truth that he had a proverbial and yet somehow still literal gaping wound in the cavity of his chest. To deny such obvious and simplistic information was … unfathomable to the commander of 13 non-lives.

And so he would not regret his decision. He would not falter, and he would not lose any of his dour yet impassive guise.

The boy was next to die.

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Conclusive note: I want to thank Akimaru-Zaithara (MaruChan! --who is also my girlfriend) for betaing for me. I'm horrible about trying to be poetic that my plot gets blurry and I use metaphors that people just don't get (as I've gotten comments on the past about xD), so she helps me be more blunt about it.


	2. Chapter II Squirt Guns Galore!

**A/N**: As you noticed, I didn't even submit Chapter 1 until I had Chapter 2 done. You'll also see a theme in the titles of the chapters, as they'll relate to both Demyx and the main character in the chapter. For example, chapter one was "Ruling", meaning Xemnas, and "Aqua" meaning Demyx. This one's "Squirt", meaning Demyx, and "Guns" meaning Xigbar. The Galore just sounds cool. I kin'na hafta thank my best friend for the title help. I have to say, this chapter involving Xiggy, it's going to be a bit more humorous than a lot of the others. This series is going to need some humor relief, after all (and after last chapter, I sure as hell needed to write something funny).

**Disclaim**: Are Axel and Demyx screwing each other? What about Saix and Xemnas? Xaldin and Xigbar...? Well ... we really don't KNOW ... but, either way, I don't own any of the characters. xD

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Fun. Yeah, fun!

He was fun and lively and just a little too crooked. He was the only member of their unorganized organization that that didn't _bitch and moan _or just plain _try to kill him _when he got into one of his moods for a little … well, fun.

After all, the pranks were harmless. A bucket full water _here_, a sticky-dart nailing the intersection of a certain X-shaped scar _there_ … nothing _big_, really.

But Demyx was the only one who would grin or laugh, even when the prank was on him. And he would never try to exact revenge, or swing around that ridiculous blue thing he dared to use as a weapon.

And that made him a primary target. The Freeshooter was almost "slithering" on the ceiling with stealth so perfected that not even the sounds of his fabric alerted his target.

It paid to be one helluva sniper.

He wasn't really sure what the kid was doing; picking up the pieces of a report gone awry? He was such a klutz, after all. It didn't matter. He was bent over, and his ass was clearly in the air, and that was when Xigbar swore he could see a ray of light peeking out of the omnipotent rain clouds in the World That Never Was.

It was a perfect shot: body easily in the air and relaxed, arm extended but calm and steady. It didn't take two eyes to have perfect vision.

And after nearly sickening little sounds of '_shump, shump, shump, shump'_, he heard the water mage give a definitive and very appropriate _shriek_. He leapt into the air at a height the sniper was quite sure could be honed and used for battle and flailed his arms madly, as though feeling molecules beneath his arms would make him fly away from such jaded circumstances. The youth was flushed and flustered as he tried to pluck the rubbery bullets from his abused rump and turned a pout to his superior…

Only to find him missing.

… Something else was going on …

Sulky behavior was immediately replaced with a sneaky grin as he lurked to the sides of the hallway, tiptoeing along the way he imagined a ninja would in the dead of a forest. A … white forest … of marble … without trees … Yes!

He knew Number II's antics far too well! He would escape the second threat. Just as he heard '_shump, shump, shump' _again, he dodged off to the side, the rubbery bullets just barely missing their target and sticking to the marble walls.

But Xigbar didn't play fair. Another moment of silence, followed by a whirring, and the second he heard the '_pop_', the boy rolled onto the floor, expecting a third wave of bullets.

_The ceiling. Oh, shit, the ceiling!_

He had landed on his back, only to find silver-streaked onyx tresses falling before him and the twisted grin of someone who got pleasure in such perverse—and sticky!—tricks.

"That's not fair!" The Nocturne wailed as the contents of his Superior's rather large bottle of pancake syrup dribbled onto his chest and neck. Oh, why did the Gooey Gods curse him?!

"Fair's for losers, kid, 'cause I think I just won," came the taught reply, on the floor instead of the ceiling, informing the whiney comrade he had stepped down. He heaved a heavy sigh and stood up with little ease, putting his hands on his chest and pushing down in attempt to get the syrup off his body, only to make it slide further down his form and splatter on the floor, all over the—…

_Oh, no! Oh, no, no, no! _

The youth verbalized a loud, whimpering wail and went to his hands and knees to try and puck up the scattered papers that were covered in delicious—yet irking!—sweetness.

"My repoooooorrrrrrt," Demyx whined loud and long, a perplexing show of emotion that Xigbar could but raise an eyebrow at. The kid almost made it seem real.

The elder of the two just shrugged his shoulders. "Can't stand the lances, don't go in the kitchen." It was a long-running joke about how … oddly protective The Whirlwind Lancer was of his kitchen. …Or maybe he just didn't like being distracted. The gunslinger was never really sure.

"But, but, but—that's…!" He gave a heavy sigh, rising with paper and saccharine in hand. He pouted at the ruined report that he had worked so very hard on, but paused to think about it for a moment …

… And he did something both of them were confused by.

He gave a smile. Not a cheesy, face-splitting smile that bared those pearly whites, but a real smile that was almost contagious. It made Xigbar almost want to … smile back.

The Freeshooter could only stare in utter … utter … flabbergast as The Melodious Nocturne walked away in sticky footprints. What the hell? Why the hell? What the fuck was going on?

It was only after a few moments of staring did Xigbar realize he had pulled a prank and gotten away completely scot-free.

He pocketed his hands.

"Kid just sucks the fun out of _everything." _


End file.
